Pre Pilot
by Raynidreams
Summary: Dean's thoughts as he sits outside Sam and Jessica's home.


Author: RireneC

Rating: T

Summary: Pre Pilot - Dean as he sits outside of Sam and Jessica's home.

Disclaimer: Don't own Supernatural, or any of the songs mentioned within this fiction. I expect a story like this has been done before, if so, no infringement intended.

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Dean sank down into the warm leather of the Impala's seat. He hated indecision. He should just go in now before the lights go out. Knock and calmly wait to be admitted. It was that simple, knock and the door will open.

But what if it didn't, or rather what if it was opened and then slammed back in his face. He doubted if he could cope with that again. Hissing in frustration he flipped open his phone and searched the contacts for 'S.' The was only one name and the urge to call was like gasping for air. His thumb paused over the button.

"Damn."

Instead, he dialled his voicemail and listened to the crackled message left by his father. He then listened to the altered version of the same message on the recorder and heard in the background "I can never go home..."

"Know how you feel sweetheart" He muttered in response. Dean's family home had been rebuilt from the ashes and dust that had killed his mother but he'd never been back to see. He swore he'd never go back. In the years since, the fire and fear of that night had driven the remnants of his shattered family to almost every state in the country. The only home Dean had come to know was the Impala and anywhere he ended up with his brother and father. It had been a terrible blow to realise that this sentiment was not shared by his brother. He could still remember the last angry sweeping glance from Sam as he stormed away to school. He couldn't believe that it had been years since that had spoken properly. Face to face.

_What had happened?_ Dean still didn't know. Even now, every day, he woke, stretched and went to shake his brother awake before remembering that the single next to him was unoccupied. Sam's absence hurt more than any physical injury ever could, and now his father was gone too.

Dean had always been happy to let his father call the shots. It had kept them alive. He had kept them sharp. He could hardly remember living in Lawrence and what a stationary existence was like. Static was just dull. How could Sammy cope with staying in one place like this? Did he still salt the doors and windows? Did he still close the closet door? _Does he want to see me?_

"Stupid, stupid, stupid." Sitting here was not doing him any good. Dean considered going to the campus bar to get a drink or to taking up smoking again.

"I'll get a packet and smoke the shit out of it. Then I'll find some hotty and then..." _I'll be right back here stalking him_. The running monologue in his head never let up.

The lights in the student residence slowly went out. He could see two dark shadows moving in the appartment that held his attention. Even through the windows he could tell which shadow belonged to that of his brother. Tall, lean but with a lowered head. Sammy walked more carefree now than he ever had but he still hunched down like he was trying to hide from the world. Like something was dragging him down deep inside. For a tall man, Dean's brother seemed so incredibly vulnerable to him.

"Sammy..." Dean whispered the word. He briefly wondered who the girl was. He'd watched them walk home together, hand in hand. She looked like something out of playboy in that nurses outfit.

_Bad Sam_.

The corner of Dean's lip curled up into a semi smile when he thought about his younger brother with the young woman. They must have been at a party. Dean had forgotten about Halloween. When you were a hunter, Halloween just seemed like a bad joke.

He snapped a tape in for comfort. The deck launched into Transformer and the sound of Lou Reed's gruff vocals drummed into the seat and car. The throbbing music felt like a damn good distraction to his wound up body. Dean loved the way the music could make you feel urgent, mellow, angry. He had poured his soul out so many times to his collection of tapes, riding along some back road in his beloved car. He shivered at the echo of Bowie's voice in the background of the tracks. _How could he snake it up like that?_ Bowie's almost ethereal vocals was yin to the guttural coarseness of Reed's yang.

He couldn't go in now. He'd have to wait till morning. Then again, Sam was never a morning person. He dreamed a lot, and often this made him tetchy come sunrise. Dean wasn't much more of a morning person than Sam, but silent and in need of coffee was much more pleasant than bitchy in need of a sense of humour. He loved his brother, no two ways about it, but sometimes the kid needed to lighten up. That's what Sam needed Dean for. Sammy just couldn't see that he needed his elder brother, as much as his elder brother needed him. Dean fondly figured all younger siblings must think they know more than the elder and subsequently be all the more uptight for it.

The tape switched into Dylan's Planet Waves. One of their dad's personal favourites. The sounds were happier, more settled with less soul searching. That suited Dean fine. He glanced up at the window, the minutes and hours ticking away. He needed to go find a motel, or a bar. He couldn't sit here all night. The battery would die from running the heat and the music soon, and then he'd be screwed. He closed his eyes briefly, soothed by music that reminded him of if not happier times, more settled ones. A time when his dad would be at the wheel, and young Sam would be beside him pestering him with eye spy. He went to smile again, but then faltered. Dylan's heart rendering Forever Young had started up;

'.._. May you grow up to be true,_

_May you always know the truth_

_And see the lights surrounding you...' _

In some ways, Dean was father and brother to Sam. It tore him up inside. Shouldn't he just leave him here? Sam looked happy, settled, but was he safe?

Dean opened his eyes. He needed to talk to him. He needed to ask. If Sam said no then he would go it alone. Dean never wanted to go anywhere alone, but if Sam said no then he'd know for good.

The car creaked as he slipped from behind the wheel. He closed it carefully and then moved over to the house.

The window proved little trouble, but he made it squeak, testing. No salt on the inside, but Dean caught the slight hint of movement upstairs. He heard bare feet padding on the floor.

He felt someone stalking him.

His lips twitched.

Sam might have stopped the precautions, but he still seemed sharp. A flurry of movement to his side engaged him. He knew by the height, and the hesitancy who his opponent was. Grinning he slipped in and pinned his much larger brother to the floor. Dean's grin upped to a smirk.

"Easy tiger." Did his voice really sound that gruff? It was hard to keep himself in check. It was just that it had been such a long time that he almost couldn't believe it that there, below him, face to face, with hair all over the place and green eyes grey in the moonlight was the startled face of his brother.

"Dean! You scared the crap outta me!" came the outraged retort.

Sammy.

The end - or rather, you know the rest.


End file.
